


In the interest of honesty

by limeblood



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Aromantic Character, Aromantic Oscar Wilde (Rusty Quill Gaming), Canon Asexual Character, Commitment, Communication, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Arophobia, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships, Queerplatonic Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde, RQG 181, Relationship Discussions, a lot of things are said and a lot of things are inferred, but it's all good, no beta we die like bertie, not super relevant but still true, qpr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeblood/pseuds/limeblood
Summary: '“There are things I’m not good at, not really, not honestly,” Oscar whispered into the dark, the fear in his voice matched by certainty.  “But I want to be honest with you.  And I’m worried the honest truth won’t be enough and I don’t know what I’ll do then.”'After the fireside chats in RQG 181, Zolf and Wilde go back to their own tent to clear the air
Relationships: Zolf Smith & Oscar Wilde, Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 36
Kudos: 97





	In the interest of honesty

“Speaking of airing our grievances.”

Zolf had only just pulled aside the flap of their tent when Oscar’s voice struck him with all the faux-nonchalance of an attention starved cat. 

“Oh,” Zolf fumbled his way out of the cold, confused but only mildly concerned. “Uh, yeah that’s, that’s something we should probably… uh.”

In lieu of finishing his thought, Zolf busied himself with unpacking his bedroll. It did not take nearly as long as he would have liked it to and he spent a few moments rummaging pointlessly at the bottom of his bag.

“Firstly,” Oscar began from the other end of their small tent, “I’d like to formally apologize for finishing your blueberry muffin this morning, it was terribly impolite of me and I cannot imagine the injury I caused.”

Zolf smiled, grateful as always for Oscar’s ability to lighten the mood. “Damn shame is what it was, they’re hard to come by these days,”

“How can you ever forgive me?”

“I’ll manage somehow. You can find a way to make it up to me.”

“Oh _can_ I?”

“Well…,” Zolf went abruptly red at the smirk Wilde was giving him, but the slump of his shoulders spoke more to disappointment than embarrassment. “You know, maybe. Never mind, I’m sure I owe you for something ages back. For all your paperwork you’re not keen on keeping score.”

“There doesn’t seem much of a point when Carter will doctor the books regardless.”

Zolf mumbled an affirmative but otherwise stayed quiet. It was unclear if he was focused on removing his prosthetics in anticipation of a cold night or just trying to keep himself busy. It was an activity that he could only draw out for so long and eventually all he was left with was his sleep clothes, his book, and his bedroll laid out next to Oscar’s. 

It had been long enough that Zolf was worried he’d missed his chance at the conversation when he managed, “I mean, there’s not much more to it, is there?”

“Hm,”

“Is there?”

“To what?”

“To… airing our grievances, if you want to call it that. I thought we’d done that already.”

“What, in the conversation that I can’t remember?”

Zolf’s face darkened slightly and Oscar’s face fell with it. “Right, yeah, ‘course not, sorry,” he said, busying himself stowing his book and putting out the light. 

“No it’s…. There’s nothing to apologize for I just- look. We have no idea what we’re heading into tomorrow. I trust the others with my life but I don’t necessarily believe that they’ll go into tomorrow with nothing to hide.” In a low voice more suited to the darkness Wilde said, “We’ve not gotten as far as we have by refusing to talk about the difficult things.”

There was quiet in the dark of the tent for a moment. Wilde wouldn’t be able to see much beyond the faint blue glow through the canvas, but he made an effort to meet Zolf’s eyes anyway. 

Zolf heaved a sigh and took his time settling under the furs. He could see Oscar out of the corner of his eye, moving to lie on his side facing him. “I thought we’d mostly…”

“We did, we have, I just… I worry sometimes.”

“About what?”

Oscar leaned into the type of silence that had served him well in the last year and a half. With a worried sigh he eventually found his voice, honest in a way that Zolf had grown used to but uncharistically unsteady. 

“You are… one of the most important people in my life, presently. You serve an absolutely vital purpose to the resistance and to the mission, but also to me personally.”

Zolf gave him an encouraging hum.

“That can’t be a surprise to you at this point, right?” Oscar asked.

“Not really. Guess I’m just not used to hearing you say it out loud, is all.”

“Good, good. And, given everything, I think now is a good time to be saying things out loud.”

“Probably right.”

“Right.”

“So?”

Wilde gave a frustrated sigh, fiddling with the blankets as he turned on to his back, staring up into the dark. “So I just…. I rely on you for so many things, and you’ve never once in the last year given me reason to doubt that. I trust you more than anything; for the first time in… years, probably, it doesn’t feel like I’m working alone. And I know you trust me, we can’t afford not to at this point, but I just don’t know….” Oscar cut himself off with a sharp inhale. 

Zolf turned to watch him, his profile outlined in the faint blue glow of the aurora. 

“Saying that you serve a special purpose is woefully understating the depth and bredth of what you are to me. I don’t have the words to describe what you do for me and I want so much to be able to do the same for you, Zolf, more than anything-“

“You do,” Zolf said with a bone deep certainty, turning to face Oscar more fully and taking his wrist gently in his hand. 

Oscar continued with a watery smile, “I cannot describe what it feels like to think of living without you,” he paused and after a glance Zolf’s way, continued, “but I don’t think I have to. I don’t want to finish living my life with you gone. I could, because it’s our job to finish this, but I _desperately_ don’t want to. I trust you so much and I care about you _so much_ and I’m still so damn _scared_ -”

With a shaky breath Wilde pressed the back of his far hand against his mouth and Zolf could see lines of tension appear in the unblemished skin around his eyes. He gripped Wilde more firmly, idly brushing his thumb over the soft skin on the inside of his wrist and choosing his words carefully. Oscar was an incredibly resilliant man, but there were few conversations Zolf would _less_ like to muck up by putting his foot in his mouth than this one.

“What are you scared of? Me?”

Oscar let out an abrupt, unsteady giggle at that, lowering his hand from his mouth and glancing briefly at Zolf in the dark. “No, no, not in the slightest. Losing you, certainly. Hurting you, absolutely. It’s not even that I’m too cocky to be scared of you, I just trust you enough not to hurt me without good reason.”

Frowning slightly, Zolf asked after a moment, “So, with a good reason, then, is that it?”

Wilde pulled up short on a choking breath and his lips pressed tight, brow pinching first in panic, then deliberation, then decision. 

“There are things I’m not good at, not really, not honestly,” Oscar whispered into the dark, the fear in his voice matched by certainty. “But I want to be honest with you. And I’m worried the honest truth won’t be enough and I don’t know what I’ll do then.”

Oscar’s voice got impossibly quieter and Zolf moved to grasp his near hand in both of his own. “I used to be so good at pretending, but things have changed. I don’t know if I could pretend with you. I don’t think I’d want to. You deserve to have everything you’ve ever wanted, and it’s a shame you haven’t gotten it and it’s a shame that I can’t give it to you. You deserve grand gestures and flowers and candles and every sappy thing Cambell’s ever put in a novel and I can’t….” Oscar trailed off into silence at last, tension in every line of his body, refusing to meet Zolf’s eye. 

“You’re the most important person in the world to me. I don’t think I’m in love with you. I don’t think I can be, I don’t think I ever could. I’m sorry.”

Zolf sighed with enough exasperation that Wilde flinched, and then again when he began to tug him into a sideway hug, Wilde’s head tucked under his chin, Zolf’s arm around his shoulders. Oscar trembled with tension, but let himself be held. 

“Y’know, there’s a reason you’ve never seen me have those things. And it’s not because I don’t think I _deserve_ them or whatever,” he cut off Wilde’s objection before it could begin. “I don’t- look, right? You’ve seen the kind of arguments I had back at the inn over the kitchen? And you’ve seen me with Earhart? I know how to get what I want. You know how I can get when I want something from you, even. Can’t say it’s always been the case, but I know how to ask for things, even if it takes a bit of effort. If I’d have really wanted candles or dancing or kissing in the rain or whatever, you’d have known about it by now. If not before, at least since everything with,” Zolf’s free hand gestured vaguely before finding its home on his chest with Oscar’s. “Look, I told you, right? We’ve got this. I wasn’t lying. And maybe I’ve not made myself clear enough since you don’t remember most of that conversation but I told you that I need you, right? And that that’s why you came back? Well that’s it, right, I need _you,_ I don’t need… anything grand or romantic or dramatic. You’re dramatic enough as you are and I’ve got plenty of Cambells, that’s enough of that.”

Zolf didn’t know how to address the slowly growing patch of damp on his shirt, didn’t know if he should. He just swept his hand slowly over Wilde’s shoulders and tried to exude as much comfort as he could as the tension slowly bled out of Oscar and he slumped fully into Zolf’s embrace. 

After a long stretch of quiet, Zolf whispered into the top of Oscar’s head, “I love you. The only thing I need from you is to know that. I want to be able to be honest with you about how I care about you. I want to feed you as much good food as I can manage and hold you like this so I know you sleep well. I want to keep doing this, after. Forever, probably. With you. That’s enough.”

Oscar had hardly moved since Zolf had pulled him into his embrace, and he hardly moved then but to take the kind of breath that starts and ends things, and to speak for the first time in long quiet minutes. 

“I love you too,” he said, his rough, low voice nearly lost in the rustle of blankets as Zolf held him that much tighter. “I want that too, more than anything.”

“Lucky then, that we can agree on that. Only thing left then is to finish this and then we’ll be off. Together.”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult,” Oscar whispered, a watery chuckle making its way into his voice. “All we need to do is save the world, again. Simple as anything.”

“It’ll be a walk in the garden, huh?” 

Oscar chuckled to himself this time with a bit more steadiness. “You never cease to amaze me, Zolf.”

“And I never will.”

**Author's Note:**

> look i have a lot of feelings about aroace qpr zoscar and I'm about as eloquent as zolf
> 
> leave a comment or find me on [tumblr](https://cardboardqueen.tumblr.com/) to talk about rqg i have a lot of feelings but very little motivation
> 
> most of this was written between the hours of 2 and 4am, so you'll have to forgive me. If there's any glaring typos lmk, otherwise this was just for fun and I'm not looking for serious critique


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